


Flying Blind

by bittenfeld



Category: X-Men, X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Claw Play, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Male Slash, Rough Kissing, Seduction, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1714850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittenfeld/pseuds/bittenfeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Final Chapter – Chapter 9 – Suggestively Scott’s fingertips caressed the back of the strong hand, lingering over the knuckles.  And drawing his lover’s hand up to his lips, gently Scott kissed each finger.  Then glancing up to Logan’s face to ascertain his effect, the younger man licked sensually between the knuckles, and the hard ridges forming there…<br/>A sharp hiss gasped from Wolverine’s lips; his grip tightened.  “Dammit, Summers!  Keep it up, and I’ll go off before I even get it up ya!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Co-author is Munnin Odinian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Scott crash on a ice-bound rock, and have to stay warm – somehow…

“Stay still, Summers!” Logan growled, his breath hot and close on Scott’s skin. The ruby crystal visor that held Cyclops’ laser rays in check was shattered beyond repair, and a ruby shard had gouged his right cheek, its sharp edges stained red with blood. Beneath closed eyelids, moisture gathered.

Propped against the cave’s cold rock wall, holding his broken arm, the younger man managed, voice trembling in pain and weakness, “I’m sorry, Logan… God, I’m…”

“Nevermind,” Wolverine’s gruff voice cut in abruptly. “We’re both alive and that’s all that matters right now. Just be sure to keep those eyes damned closed now, or you’ll take my head off.”

“I’m sorry…” Scott tried again.

“And I said, nevermind. You couldn’t help it.”

“But I hurt you.”

“I’m fine.”

Scott gasped as Logan plucked the shard free, holding something soft and warm to his skin as the blood ran down his face. The cloth smelt so strongly of Wolverine that Scott balked.

“It’s just my undershirt,” Logan muttered, cupping the back of Scott’s head to hold him still, stanching the wound as best he could in the confined space. “At least I’m smart enough to wear one!”

A shiver ran though Scott’s narrow frame. The cold was leaching into his bones from the frozen rock around them, and his leather suit provided so little protection, ripped to pieces as it was... and more than that, just shock… he couldn’t stop shaking… “What hit us, Logan?”

“I dunno – somethin’ strong enough to rip open the Blackbird like a tin-can… dunno.”

“You think we were attacked by whatever Excalibur was up against?”

“Don’t know, kid – we don’t even know fer sure that Excalibur was under attack.”

The other man took his chin, tilted his head up, turned it an inch this way and that, as though studying it. “That shit that hit you in the face – we’re just lucky it didn’t take _your_ head off. There’s blood on your eyelids – are you sure nothing got in your eyes?”

Scott shook his head. “My eyes feel okay. I guess bits of crystal peppered my eyelids, but that’s all.” A short rueful grunt. “Anyway, nothing we could do about it if I _had_ gotten something in my eyes, is there?”

Logan stood. “I’m goin’ back to the plane, see what I can salvage. Don’t go anywhere.”

As if he could. Nervously Scott felt with his hands until he found his team-mate. Fingers clutched Wolverine’s leathers. “Logan…”

“Look, I’m just going to get the blankets and the first-aid kit. And see if there are any uncontaminated rations. I dunno about you, but I’m starving, and I don’t feel like hunting in the middle of the night.”

“But I know you’re hurt too. I could tell you were limping when you helped me here.” Warm sliminess dribbled over Scott’s hand and he pulled it away, turning his face toward his fingers as though he were looking at them. “You’re bleeding too.”

 “No, kid, that’s your blood. I’m fine.”

 In his blindness, Scott could pick up the lie in the older man’s voice. “How badly are you hurt, Logan?”

 “Doesn’t matter, kid. Anyway, I need to find out if the homing signal is working. And if we’re real lucky, maybe the radio is, too.”

The barely suppressed grunt that slipped from Logan’s lips as he crawled out of the cave only cemented Scott’s concern. Logan was hurt – and badly – judging by the heat and fluidity of the blood that ran over his hand when he touched the older X-man.

But there was no stopping him. When Logan was determined about something, he didn’t let go easily, a stubbornness that was both endearing and annoying. As leader, Scott knew it was his responsibility to see to the welfare of his team... not that he could do much right now. He took stock of his own injuries – his left ankle was wrenched and throbbing, but more likely to be twisted than broken. He wished he could say the same for his right arm. Logan had tucked it carefully across his chest when he carried them both in here and it was starting to go numb... broken or dislocated? Scott couldn’t tell, but his skin burned as he tried to touch it.

Giving up on his arm for now, he worked his way down his body. The blast had shredded his suit, ribbons of leather hung about his left hip and side where he’d taken the worst of it. With a sudden spike of worry he ran his hand over his groin. There was a pool of blood matting his exposed pubic hair and a deep cut running down the tilt of his hip, but nothing seemed to be damaged. It was a vain thought, but one that scared him, losing his manhood in an accident like this.

He was so caught up with the thought, that he didn’t hear Logan re-enter until the older man chuckled. “It’s all still there, Summers. No need to worry ‘bout any little Summerlings.” He could hear the smirk in Logan’s voice, even as the older man grunted to kneel next to him. “That cut’s pretty deep, though. I’ll need to bandage it.”

“You found a first aid kit then?” Scott asked, trying to distract himself from the pain as Logan manipulated his leg into the right position.

“No luck. The plane’s a junker. I managed to salvage the homing signal and some cloth. Looks like some of Kurt’s spare outfit.”

Scott bit back a reply, fighting too hard not to cry out as Logan wrapped his upper leg. Without thinking, he threw his hand out, grabbing hold of Logan in an effort to ride out the pain as Logan tied the ends of the makeshift bandage painfully tight. His hand met the sticky mess on Logan’s thigh. The older X-man grunted but said nothing.

“Logan.” Scott tried his best leadership voice, tinted with his own pain. “I need to know how badly hurt you are.”

“It’ll heal, Summers. That’s how I’m built,” Logan said dismissively as he reached to touch Scott’s cheek, the cut there was starting to bleed again.

Scott knew Logan had seemingly limitless regenerative ability – he’d seen the older man take a bullet without so much as a scar – but that didn’t tally with what he could feel under his hand. “Then why aren’t you healing now?”

Scott felt, rather than saw, Logan shrug. “Takes longer when it’s this damn cold.” He wasn’t willing to admit to the younger man that his mutation was struggling to deal with the volume of his injuries. At least his left kneecap was reforming now.

Summers managed a tiny grin despite his pain. “Cold? You’re from Canada – this ought to feel like a nice spring day to you.”

Logan tossed a wry sidelong glance at him. “Sure, well, some day, I’m taking you for a nice morning swim in Lake Athabasca. Wake you right up.” He ran his hands over Scott’s right arm, watching the young man’s face as he flinched under the touch. “It’s broken in at least two places, and your shoulder’s dislocated. I can put it back, but it’s going to hurt like hell.”

Scott nodded tightly, bracing himself for the pain but surprised to feel himself wrapped in Logan’s arms and the older man lifted him.

“On the count of three,” Logan whispered, his whiskers brushing against Scott’s cheek. “1… 2...”

Logan didn’t wait for three, cracking Scott’s arm back into its socket as the younger man screamed into the leather of his suit. He held Scott close, listening to the whimpers that broke through each hitching breath, feeling hot moist breath on the bare skin of his chest through his own ruined clothes, held his teammate, until breathing finally quieted and levelled. Logan knew from experience that having a shoulder put back in like that hurt like all shit, but he couldn’t imagine how bad it would be without his naturally high pain tolerance and healing ability; and Scott was taking it like a man – once he’d gotten past the initial shock, he bit back and rode it out.

Finally Summers pushed himself up from Logan’s hold, and settled himself back against the cave wall again with the other man’s assistance. “Nothing left of the Blackbird?” he re-affirmed, easing out the other side of the pain.

“Nope, just a pile of high-tech junk. Xavier’s gonna have to put in an insurance claim on this one.”

Summers managed a tiny grin. No insurance company in the world knew about the black special-ops jet. “We’ll just be lucky if the professor doesn’t take it out of our paychecks.”

“Or our hides,” Logan agreed.

Scott barely smiled, felt himself slip a bit against the cold rocks. Everything hurt – there wasn’t a bit of him that didn’t. But gradually pain receded as a warm soft cloud enveloped… that was better… much better… he could just stay here and float, and maybe the pain would just go away … maybe it would all just go away…

Abruptly Logan grabbed his shoulders and shook him lightly. “No no no, Summers. You gotta stay awake! You keep those eyes of yours closed, but you keep talking to me. Don’t you drift off!”

Scott stuttered back into consciousness, fighting to keep his eyes closed against the reflex to open them. “Logan?” he queried, shaking again with the chill.

“I’m right here,” the older man soothed. “But you gotta stay with me ‘til help gets here.” He ran his hands over Scott’s pale cheek. “Damn, you’re cold. Stay still.”

Scott had to bite his lip not to moan as Logan lay down next to him, the older man’s body heat burning his frozen skin like a flame.

“Talk to me, kid,” Wolverine growled, wrapping his arm around Scott’s waist, pulling the younger man closer to protect his damaged arms. “Just keep talking. Anything. So, whadd’ya think of Dr. MacTaggert?”

Scott managed a little grin. “I think Moira likes you.”

At that, Wolverine gave a little cough.

Scott’s grin widened, “Hey, I saw the way she was looking at you. She was probably thinking about getting your clothes off.”

The older man sat up, cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, if the doc wanted my clothes off, it was probably to make me one of her medical research projects.”

“Maybe not. You should have tried chatting with her.”

“Yeah, and that boyfriend of hers would’ve handed me my ass – after he screamed my ears off. No thanks.” A little self-consciously he shifted position. “Y’know, let’s talk about something else. Ummm… tell me what you remember of the blast.”

“I... we...” Good humor quickly evaporated. “We were on our way back from Muir Island. We...”

“That’s right, kid.”

Scott had to stop and think, trying to put events back in order, trying to reassemble his disjointed thoughts. “We were there to drop off two children who had unstable mutations.”

“What were their names?”

“Uhh...” – had they known their names? – of course, they must have… “uhh, Brianna and, uh… Stoney… his skin was like stone – his mutation was slowly turning him into a statue. Poor kid.”

“Yeah.”

“umm… his real name was Christopher, I think. Dr. MacTaggert thought she might be able to stop, or at least slow down, the petrification process.”

“Keep going, Summers,” Logan urged gently, his fingers skimming Scott’s cheek, brushing away a drop of blood as it oozed from the cut. “What happened after we left Muir?”

“Jean...” Scott fought to stay focused as he drifted, the shock of his injuries making him cold and weak. But the warm soft clouds billowed up again, so comforting…

“Summers!” Logan slapped him lightly, pulling Scott’s attention back. “C’mon, tell me about Jean.”

“She, uh, contacted us. A distress call from Excalibur. We were close enough to help... Something about Lionheart...” Scott gulped, licking his dry lips.

“C’mon,” Logan urged, running his hand down Scott’s side, pressing his hand to the naked patch on the younger man’s thigh, feeling the cold of his skin.

“We were on our way there, when something hit us. Hard.” Scott winced, shuddering painfully as the memory overtook him. “The side of the Blackbird was torn open. I tried to keep it under control, but we crashed...”

“You got us down alive,” Logan reassured, brushing Scott’s cheek softly.

“One of the instruments in the cockpit broke loose and hit me in the face,” Scott went on, his brow furrowed. “My visor shattered, I felt...” He started to touch the cut on his cheek.

Logan caught hold of his hand, stopping Scott from moving his broken arm; and the younger man’s chest hitched, the pain catching him off guard.

“Take it slow, Summers.”

“I burnt you.” Scott’s voice cracked with recrimination and sudden panic. “When my visor broke... I tried to close my eyes instantly, but...”

“You didn’t hurt me that bad,” Logan said, his voice low and urgent.

“I could have killed you!”

“Don’t start, kid!” Logan growled. “I don’t break that easy.”

“Your leg?” Scott’s voice was still too high, breathless and frightened.

Logan took Scott’s left hand, guiding it down his thigh. The skin was still damp with drying blood but the cut was healed clean. He rubbed the young man’s palm over the smooth, freshly regrown skin. “Feel that?”

Scott swallowed, nodded slightly as he flexed his fingers over the older man’s skin, feeling the drag of Logan’s surprisingly soft body hair tacky with blood. Without thinking, Scott let his hand play over the naked stretch of skin, feeling for the limits of the injury. One tear in Logan’s suit ran deep down the older man’s leg, the leather sliced open from the beltline to below his knee. “No wonder you were limping,” Scott choked, trying to keep his voice level.

Logan trapped Scott’s hand under his own. “You got us down, Summers. Even flying blind. That’s all that matters.” The older man’s voice was strangely soft, his breath brushed over Scott’s throat.

Scott shuddered. “I need… I need to know how badly I hurt you.”

Logan squeezed his hand. “Don’t, Summers. We’re both alive. That’s all that matters.”

“Please, Logan. I need to know.”

Logan’s hand was warm and heavy, pressing Scott’s fingers skin to skin, his hot breath playing over the younger man’s face. “If that’s what you need, kid.” Logan conceded reluctantly.

Scott felt the cool air rush over his fingers as Logan released him. Carefully, tenderly, nervously, he explored the torn edges of Logan’s uniform. The leather had been ripped open from inner right calf, across his knee and up over his hip.

The older man shuddered under Scott’s touch.

“I’m sorry, Logan. Does it still hurt?”

Logan’s voice was slightly huskier than normal. “Its fine, kid... just...” He broke off as his breath hitched.

“Logan! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Summers,” Wolverine chuckled under his breath. “New skin is just a bit... sensitive...”

And something in his voice changed Scott’s attitude... something…

Scott ran his fingers over the thigh once more, relishing the trembling sigh he raised from the older man.

“You gotta stop that, Summers,” Logan muttered unconvincingly.

“Don’t like being tickled, Logan?” Scott teased quietly, running his hand over the tilt of older man’s hip.

Wolverine growled, low and throaty. “I’m not ticklish, Summers.” He trapped the Scott’s hand under his, leant into the younger man and breathing hard.

Through the thin remains of his suit, Scott could feel waves of heat coming off the older man, his hot breath stirring Scott’s hair. “Logan?” he asked tentatively, his own voice rougher that he expected. Without thinking, he flexed his fingers under Logan’s grip, drawing another bitten-off moan from the older man.

“Unless you mean it, Summers, you better stop teasing!” Wolverine grinned. “Y’know, I bet it wasn’t Dr. MacTaggert lookin’ to get my clothes off – I bet it was you.”

The younger man blustered and stuttered. “No way!”

“Sure – look at you now, can’t keep your hands to yerself.”

Scott tried to shift, but Wolverine wouldn’t let him. “Hey, kid,” he muttered in a raspy voice. “I didn’t say I minded…”

  
 _to be continued_ …


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Scott discover a very delightful way to spend the time while waiting for rescue to arrive...

Scott’s breath caught in his throat. Was Logan really saying... was this really happening….?

“Hey, kid? You still with me?” Logan’s voice was still rough with lust, but now laced with concern as he saw the worry on the younger man’s face. “Look, if I’m freaking you out here, I was just kidding around...”

“Were you?” Scott asked, brushing his fingertips over Logan’s freshly regrown thigh, drawing a muffled groan from the older man. “Because I’m pretty sure you just invited me to touch you.” He grinned, bright and cocky, as Logan shuddered under his touch.

Logan leant in, growling into Scott’s slender neck as the younger man stroked his skin. His breath misted against Scott’s cold skin, and for a moment he gave into the temptation to taste him, licking a swath over the young man’s neck.

“God yes,” Scott whimpered, arching back to give Logan greater access to his throat.

The older man’s chuckle against his skin made Scott shiver. “I take it I’m not the only one enjoying this...”

Scott tried to pull himself together, summoning his best leadership voice... somewhat unsuccessfully. “Considering the severity of the blow that destroyed my visor, and the cold, I think it wise from a medical standpoint to do anything to keep warm and keep from going into shock...”

Logan’s chuckle cut him off. “Don’t worry, kid; I don’t plan to let you fall asleep any time soon. Just as long as you want this as well...” Scott’s reply was lost in a moan as Logan licked his throat again, grazing his teeth over the tender skin. Logan grinned. “Seems like you’ve got some sensitive spots, too...”

Scott abandoned his exploration of Logan’s thigh to grab the back of his head, forcing Logan’s face hard into his neck. “Bite me, damn you.”

Logan resisted, chuckling quietly as he ran the tip of his nose over the curve of Scott’s ear. “Got a bit of a kink there, Summers?” He blew hot breath over the soft skin behind Scott’s ears, relishing the shudder that ran though the younger man. “If I mark you, it’ll be there for everyone to see.”

Scott swallowed hard. “I doubt anyone will notice, given the mess I am already...”

Taking that as consent, Logan buried a hand in the youth’s hair and bit down hard, sucking on the naked skin of Scott’s throat.

Scott’s moan of pleasure turned into a groan of pain as he bucked against the older man, the wound on his hip pulling agonisingly beneath the makeshift bandages.

“Shit!” Logan cursed, pinning the younger man down to look him over. “Stay still, Summers. I need to check this.” His hands ran over Scott’s hips, pulling at the edges of the cloth to survey the damage. “Damn it! You’re bleeding again.” One hand pressed down on the wound as the other found Scott’s face, cupping his cheek protectively. “Sorry, kid. I shouldn’t have...”

“Don’t, Logan,” Scott growled, biting his lip against the pain. “It wasn’t just you.”

Logan’s fingers slipped lower to brush over the mark on Scott’s neck, dark and wet against pale skin in the meagre light. Scott whimpered to the touch, relishing the pleasure/pain of the growing bruise.

Slowly Logan eased his grip on the younger man’s hip. “Bleeding’s stopped.” His fingers inadvertently brushed the revealed thatch of light brown pubic hair, the slight touch making Scott shudder.

“Logan...?” Scott half-begged, his chest heaving.

“I’m sorry, kid...” Logan whispered mournfully, his own arousal bordering on painful. “The state you’re in... I don’t wanna risk hurting you again.”

“There’s got to be a way,” Scott moaned, grabbing Logan’s wrist in an effort to get the older man’s hand back near his groin.

Logan sighed, moving his hand easily out of Scott’s grip. “You really want this, Summers?” The flushed look on Scott’s face was answer enough. “All right. Just hold on a sec.” Logan shifted himself until he had his back braced against the cave wall, before carefully pulling Scott up to sit between his legs, wrapping one arm around him to hold the young man’s broken arm protectively against Scott’s chest.

Scott sighed through the pain of moving, as he settled into Logan’s embrace, his back pressed against the older man’s broad chest.

“All right?” Logan asked, kissing the mark on Scott’s throat, as the younger man shimmied to get comfortable. “Now,” he whispered, low and rough as he wrapped his fingers in Scott’s, “how ‘bout you show me what it is you’re wantin’ here?”

Scott grabbed Logan’s hand and shoved it towards his groin, wrapping their conjoined fingers around his cock, squeezing hard as he bucked up into their touch.

“Go slow, kid,” Logan growled. “We’ve got a while before help’ll come lookin’ and I promise I’ll keep you up ‘til then.”

Scott groaned, as much from the bad pun as Logan’s teasing touch, as the older man loosened his grip, tracing the outline of his cock with the tips of his fingers.

“See?” Logan grinned into Scott’s neck as the younger man shivered helplessly. “Better, hey?”

Torturously slowly, Logan mapped Scott’s groin, running his fingers along the younger man’s length to smear the gathering pre-cum, rubbing it over the head with maddening gentleness.

“Damn it, Logan!” Scott growled, trying to buck up into the older man’s hand. “I want this. Please?”

“I know,” Logan teased as he pulled back, reaching down the cup Scott’s balls tenderly, rolling them between his fingers. “But you’re pretty messed up right now. Can’t have you hurtin’ yourself.” He let his fingers dip lower into the torn leathers, stroking over the younger man’s quivering hole.

Scott tensed, his back arching against Logan’s chest as he gasped for air. No one had ever touched him there before, not even Jean – and certainly no man – but now all he wanted was Logan’s fingers inside him.

“Sorry, kid. I shouldn’t tease,” Logan whispered, moving his hand away as Scott tried to grind against it.

Scott growled, grabbing Logan’s wrist again, but the older man held him off.

“I said no, Slim. Not this time.” He lifted his hand, wrapping his fingers loosely around Scott’s cock to stroke him lightly. “We’ve got nothing but blood and spit to ease the way, and I’m not using either in the state you’re in.”

“I can take it, Logan!” Scott growled, pushing back against the older man.

Logan silenced him with a tightening twist of his wrist and a long dragging stroke. “Maybe... but I ain’t givin’ it to you. You’re just going to have to make do with this.” Scott’s breath came in starts as Logan rubbed him long and slow, twisting his wrist every now and then to make him whimper.

Scott bucked helplessly into Logan’s hand, wanting, needing him to go harder and faster, but the older man seemed determined to keep him strung out and gasping. He tried to shift positions, pushing himself back into Logan’s lap, but the pain in his hip roared though his body, almost overwhelming the pleasure of Logan’s touch. “I need...” he stammered, “I need to feel you.”

“You sure, kid?”

Scott nodded, trying to hold onto coherent thought as Logan cupped his balls squeezing them playfully. “Need to be sure I’m… uhhh… not the only one… ummm… enjoying this.”

“You using my own words against me, Summers?” Logan chuckled, slipping a hand between their bodies to free himself from his suit and press the length of his cock against Scott’s ass. “Proof enough for ya?”

Scott gasped, feeling Logan’s hardness slide between his cheeks, hot and hard. It was all he could do not to rub against it like a cat in heat. “Please, Logan?” he begged, trying to position himself so it touched his hole.

“I said no, and I mean it, Summers. Not like this.” He clamped his hand around Scott’s uninjured hip to hold him still, and pressed his lips to the younger man’s throat. “I can’t say I don’t want this, kid, but I ain’t gunna hurt you.”

“I know. I should thank you for that,” Scott sighed reluctantly, leaning back into the older man’s embrace, grinning slightly. “I never expected you to be the reasonable one.”

Logan growled in his ear, biting down on the dark mark on Scott’s throat and wrapping his fingers back around the younger man’s cock to cut his words off with a yelp.

Scott’s head fell back to Logan’s shoulder as he thrust up into the older man’s hand, riding the high as Logan thrust against him, both of them teetering on the edge.

“Not yet, kid.” Logan hummed, closing his hand tightly around the base of Scott’s cock, holding back the young man’s impending orgasm.

Scott fell back against Logan, trying to level out his own heartbeat. “You seem pretty...” he gasped, his breath catching in his throat, “comfortable with this…”

Logan shrugged, brushing his hand over Scott’s leg.

“You’ve been with other men before?” Scott asked, curious but trying not to sound prying.

Logan shrugged again. “You haven’t?” He chuckled quietly as Scott blushed. “I’ll take that as a no.” Nuzzling the younger man’s neck, he grazed over the dark mark with his teeth, just hard enough to make Scott shudder. “I should feel privileged.”

“What about you?” Scott asked, trying to get past the urge to squirm again.

“I’m missing a lot of my past,” Logan muttered. “But being with someone, male or female, it’s never felt wrong.” He slid his hand back up the young man’s legs, brushing his fingers though the blood-matted pubic hair before once more taking hold of Scott. “This doesn’t feel wrong.”

Scott shuddered, moving against Logan’s touch as he rocked back against the older man’s body. “Please...” he sighed. “Please, Logan...don’t stop this time...”

“I’ve got you, kid,” Logan whispered, sucking lightly on Scott’s throat.

Scott gasped, thrusting hard as Logan ploughed against him. “God... Logan... please...”

“Don’t hold back, Summers,” Logan growled, his own breath ragged and tight as he rubbed between the younger man’s cheeks.

Scott felt his whole body tense, orgasm coiled tightly in his guts. “... oh god... Logan... I’m...”

Logan groaned deep and needy, biting down hard on Scott’s throat as he came, coating the younger man’s skin with his release as Scott spilt into his hand.

Lost in pleasure, Scott’s eyes shot open, large chunks of the cave wall shattering loudly against the floor before he could force them closed.

Instinctively they grabbed each other, as rock debris pelted them, then finally Logan insisted benignly, “Shit, Summers, we just survived a plane crash – don’t bring the whole cave down on us now.”

“I’m sorry…” Scott half-murmured, half-laughed, “… god, I’m sorry…”

“It’s all right, kid. I’ve got you.” Logan kept his arm wrapped protectively around Scott, wiping his hand on the bandage before cradling the younger man’s head against his shoulder. “Hell, you bring a whole new meaning to ‘seeing stars’.”

Heart pounding, Scott leant into Logan, breathing in the older man’s warm scent of musk and sweat and sex. “I’m so sorry, Logan. I couldn’t control it.”

“It’s all right, no harm done,” Logan whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Scott’s head. “Just take your time...”

They sat together for a while, letting the sweat on their skins cool and their hearts slow, before Logan groaned, sniffing the air. “Look sharp, Summers. The cavalry’s about to arrive.”

Scott leant back into him, still boneless and drained, but at least now he was warm. “How can you tell? I can’t hear anything.”

“Kurt. I can smell the little elf a mile off. He reeks of sulphur.” Logan snorted disdainfully. Scott wavered slightly. The dizzy feeling was back, but Logan wrapped his arm around him a little tighter. “I’ve got you, kid.”

“How can you be sure it’s not just his old suit you’re smelling?”

Logan growled softly into Scott’s ear. “Believe me, Summers. That cloth now reeks of you – and I know what you smell like.”

Scott’s laugh turned into a painful cough, his chest heaving as he fought to get enough air into his lungs.

“Hold on, kid. Help’s coming,” Logan murmured. “Kurt! Move your furry blue ass!”

Nightcrawler bamfed into view, crouched low to stop himself from hitting his head on the low roof. “Wow – what happened? it looks like a bomb went off in here.”

Wolverine growled. “Never mind that, kid.”

“Logan? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, but Scott’s injured. I need you to get him out of here. And be careful, his arm’s broken!” he growled, shifting out of the way to let Kurt take hold of Cyclops.

As Scott braced himself for the unpleasantness of teleportation; he realised belatedly that that was the first time he’d ever heard Logan use his first name.

“Hey, Wolverine.” Shadowcat leant through the wall, holding her hand out to Logan. “You look tired. Ready to get out of here?”

“Kiddo, you have no idea…” Logan took the young girl’s hand and followed Kitty through the stone wall of the cave.

He was asleep as soon as he strapped into Excalibur’s jet...  
* * * * *

When he woke up, he knew he was back in the mansion before he even opened his eyes. Even with Kurt’s lingering scent of hellfire, the place smelt like home. The thought made Logan snort. Home... now there was an idea he hadn’t given much thought to for a while, but without him realising it, this mad place had indeed become his home.

He let his head fall to one side, taking in the warm smell beside him: corn bread and the heady musk of Southern swampland – Rogue. “Hey, kid.” He opened his eyes slowly to her sweet, gap-toothed smile.

“Hey yourself,” she grinned, moving closer to brush her gloved hand over his with a squeeze. After what happened that night a couple of years ago, she was wary not to get too close until he was fully awake.

Logan squeezed her hand back, but felt the icy breeze of Bobby’s discontent as the young Iceman leant in the doorway. “So?” he said carefully, claiming his hand back to rub his face. “How long have I been out?”

“ ‘Bout a day. Don’t you remember?” Rogue prompted gently, glancing at Bobby. “Kurt and Kitty dropped you off yesterday morning.”

“You were pretty whacked out, but the Professor said you’d be fine, so you crawled up here and passed out,” Bobby supplied, with just a bit too much cheerfulness about Logan’s exhausted state.

Logan chose to ignore the kid; Iceman’s insecurities were his own problems to deal with. Logan had more complex issues to worry about right now. “How’s Cyclops doing?”

“He was pretty banged up.” Rogue dropped her eyes, biting her lip. “Professor X and Dr. McCoy are with him. They say he’s going to be okay, but...”

“It might take a while,” Bobby finished as Rogue trailed off. It was clear they were both worried about their fallen leader.

It took Logan a sec to muster his heavy limbs before he could sit up and swing his legs off the bed. He hated falling asleep while healing; everything felt stiff and sore afterwards. “Thanks for watching out for me, kid, but I should check in with the Doc now that I’m up.” But for reasons unknown, Rogue had suddenly gone a funny colour and was gulping like a goldfish.

Bobby sniggered, pulling his girlfriend out of the room. “You might want to put some pants on first.”

After slamming the door on Iceman, and a quick shower, Logan went looking for Xavier. Expecting to find the Professor in the library, he instead found Jean; her feet tucked up under her on one of the couches, her eyes red with tears.

“You all right, Red?” he asked, carefully lingering in the doorway in case he needed to make a quick exit. Had Scott told her something already?

“Logan.” She smiled, hastily wiping away the tears. “I’m fine... I’m just...”

Sensing little risk of getting his eyes scratched out, he edged closer. “You sure?”

She nodded, giving him a little brave smile. “I’ve been in helping the Professor with Scott, but I... I had to take a break. It’s just that... I hate seeing him like this.”

“He’s going to be all right, though.”

She smiled again but grimly. “Hank said it’ll take time, but he’ll make a full recovery.” She pushed off the chair and crossed to him. “Thank you so much, Logan... for keeping him safe and bringing him home to me. He said... he said he would have died without you.” For a second she slung her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely. “I should get back.”

He held her at arm’s length for a second as she stepped away. “You look after him, all right?”

“I will,” she promised and slipped out of the room, leaving Logan to count his lucky stars that her telepathy was next to useless when she was this upset. If Scott had chosen not to tell, then Logan definitely had no place doing so. Better to write it off as an in-the-field, spur-of-the-moment one-off, and put it behind them.

It was nearly three weeks before he and Summers saw each other again. Logan had thrown himself into the renovations of the mansion. The young mutant population of the school was quickly growing, and they were swiftly running out of room, so many of the older students and staff were working together to turn the old kitchens and dining hall into new dorms. The work was hard and physical, and Logan relished the warm tired strain of muscles well used. He had paused from nailing the frame in place, to stretch his back, groaning contentedly with the pops of his spine, when he spotted Scott out of the corner of his eye.

The younger man still looked pale and drawn and he walked with a limp, leaning heavily on Jean as they surveyed the progress. For a moment their eyes met, but then Scott looked away, his high cheekbones flushing pink.

_‘Fine,’_ Logan thought, attacking the nails with unnecessary vigour. _‘If he wants to pretend nothing happened so be it.’_ But he was lying to himself to say he wasn’t disappointed.

  
_to be continued_ …


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Scott test their new-found intimacy.
> 
> Logan fell back, collapsing lazily on the bed, half-propped up on the pillows, legs spread comfortingly, invitingly. “It’s all yours, kid. Why don’t you get your ass over here, and decide what you want to do about it?”

It took another week before Scott and Logan spoke. Logan was up late, having been on perimeter patrol. Anti-mutant stories in the media had been nastier than usual of late, and the Professor thought it best they all keep an eye out, even in the rain. Logan snuck into the staff kitchen, hoping to snag a beer, his hair still wet from the storm, when he spotted Scott sitting in the window. The younger man turned his head slowly, barely acknowledging Wolverine’s presence.

“So, you goin’ all brooding on me, kid? Doesn’t suit you. You should leave that sort of shit to Jones, he’s better at it than you.” Logan fished a beer out of the fridge and cracked it open. “I take it then, you don’t want to talk about it?”

“I'm not sure...” Scott started, but his words drifted off as he looked away, his cheeks blushed with shame.

“It’s fine, kid. I won’t bring it up ever again. Jean doesn’t need to know, and I’m not about to blow it for you.” The older man turned away, ready to leave the room.

“Logan! Wait.” Scott caught hold of his arm. “Look, the professor said the blast that destroyed my visor was strong enough, that if I’d been allowed to pass out, I might not have woken up again. I don’t regret what happened, and I’m not about to deny that you saved my life. I’m just not sure how to deal with this... I just wish...” – the younger man dropped his eyes shyly – “I just wish it could have happened without being trapped in a cave, with me bleeding all over you.”

Logan’s hand found Scott’s face, brushing his thumb over the freshly healed cut. “What are you trying to tell me, Summers?” His voice was gruff but gentle.

“I’m trying to say that… I won’t say no, if you wanted to keep me awake again some time. Just...” he smiled a little less shy now, as if he had finally found his voice, “… maybe somewhere warm this time.”

* * * * *

Rap of knuckles on the door. “Logan, it’s me.”

From inside, Logan’s voice called, “C’mon in.”

Summers opened the door. The main room was dark, but the bathroom door was ajar, and the light shone from there.

Bare footsteps on hardwood floor. Wolverine strolled out from the bathroom, wearing only his jeans, a towel around his neck, and a small but warm welcoming smile. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” The illumination from the lavatory back-lit his team-mate’s half-nude body. With a reticent smile, Summers looked Logan up and down, basking in the sight he’d only recently allowed himself to enjoy. These past six weeks he’d worked so hard to keep any thoughts of the older man’s hard body out of his mind – especially around Jean..

No. Now wasn’t the time to think about that.

Pulling the door closed, Scott steeled his nerve. He wanted this so much… “I think you and I can have a little time to ourselves now,” he announced. “The mansion’s locked up, the children are all in bed, the professor and Cerebro are spending some quality time together…”

“And Jean?” the older man queried pointedly.

Scott looked away. “She’s in the library grading exams. She, uh, knows I’m here. I told her I needed to talk to you.”

Logan cast a cautious glance at his visitor. “Does she know… anything… about…?” A small indicative gesture between the two of them.

The younger man ducked his head, quelling his own rising guilt. “No… I, uh… I don’t think so…”

“You okay with this, Summers?” Logan cocked his head, watching Scott’s expression more than listening to his words.

Shame flitted across the younger man’s face, irritation too, although aimed more at himself than anyone else. But there was also desire there… and resignation. Yet, as Scott looked up to meet Logan’s eyes, what the older man saw most was unmovable resolve. “Yes. This is what I want.”

“Well then, I think that sounds like a plan.” A little quirk of lips. “So, umm, welcome to my parlor.”

Scott glanced about the room, as though he’d never been there before. “Cozy little place you have here.”

A subtle leer over his body. “It could be cozier.”

The younger man chuckled nervously, then started to reach for the light switch.

But Logan shook his head. “Uh uh. No lights.” And so saying, he snapped off the bathroom light, swathing the room in only moonlight from the open window.

Then strolling over to his visitor, he reached out to grip Summers’ upper arms, and Scott responded by gathering him into an embrace.

Logan smiled, urged gently, “So, uh, just what is it you're wantin’ here, kid?”

Scott shrugged. “Not sure,” he admitted. “Guess I’m kind of… flying blind here.”

Logan chuckled. “Well, you're not doing too bad at that lately.”

A snort. “Yeah, I just crashed an 80-million-dollar jet.”

A calloused hand reached up to gently touch his hair, as lust-shimmering hazel eyes caressed his body, and a rough voice murmured, “Well, no one’s gonna crash tonight, Slim. And that’s a promise.”

Scott tilted his head slightly, leaned forward, and matched Logan’s mouth. His eyes slipped closed, as the intimacy between them washed over him like the most natural thing in the world, and suddenly he understood what Logan had said back in the cave, about this not feeling wrong.

The kiss extracted a purr from Logan’s throat, and he began to rub his hands sensually over Scott’s strong slender back. Two male bodies pressed together, face to face, chest to chest, crotch to crotch. Already Logan’s flesh was bulging his jeans – Summers could feel it through their clothes, pressing into the left crease of his groin; he had to bite back a moan, as he felt the man’s heat radiating through the denim, and the sensation stirred his own cock to awakening. Logan’s tits were erect too, and they rubbed against Summers’, with only Scott’s thin shirt between.

Then with a growl of barely suppressed need, Logan pulled his partner closer, urged Summer’s lips open, and plunged a curious tongue into an eager mouth. Scott needed no encouraging to start sucking strongly on the intruding flesh. As Logan’s tongue explored the wet slickness of palate, teeth, insides of cheeks, excitement zagged all over Summers’ skin. Logan’s bulge thrust against his, and Summers could only moan surrender; shirt clinging to his sweat-dampening skin.

Finally Logan pulled away, surveying Scott’s flushed face. The younger man’s lips swollen, gaze slightly uncertain. Despite his eagerness, this was still his first time – better to let him take it at his own pace. Logan fell back, collapsing lazily on the bed, half-propped up on the pillows, legs spread comfortingly, invitingly. “It’s all yours, kid. Why don’t you get your ass over here, and decide what you want to do about it?”

Scott looked him over again, hungrily taking in the hard lines of Logan’s body. Unable to resist any longer, a little lop-sided grin tugging at his lips, he sat down on edge of the bed, and rested a hand upon a sinewy thigh, hesitantly beginning to stroke.

But Logan saw the timid twitch in Summers’ smile; and taking the caressing hand, uninhibitedly drew it up to his crotch. “C’mon… I ain’t gunna break.”

With a quick inward gasp at this freely-granted intimacy, Summers’ cock squirmed with excitement, and his balls tightened. Suddenly his own slacks felt way too constrictive, and he wondered how Logan could tolerate the confinement of the denim jeans. Then proving that he really meant it, Logan pressed the welcome hand to himself, over the hugeness beneath his fly, moaning quietly into Scott’s touch.

Scott’s breath hitched as Logan guided his hand lower, cupping the bulge of his testicles, and stretching their conjoined fingers down deeper to the underparts of his ass. Compliantly Summers followed his lead, fingering the seam of Logan’s jeans, rubbing the underside of his balls, making tiny circular motions directly in the perineal area.

“Nngghh…” Wolverine groaned, squirming his hips responsively. His eyes drifted shut. “C’mon… gddd, that’s good… keep it up, kid…” And leaning back further, he spread his knees wider, giving the younger man greater access.

Spurred on by the wild broken sound of Logan’s voice, Scott continued to knead the sensitive spot, then with his free hand, hesitantly began to touch himself as well through the uncomfortably tight confines of his slacks.

“Do it, Summers,” Logan growled, licking his lips, as he watched Scott’s cautious self-exploration. “I wanna see you.”

With a smile bolder than he felt, Scott unzipped his pants and pulled out his own expectant flesh, stroking himself as he massaged Logan, biting his lip to hold back a moan.

Logan arched his back, pushing his crotch harder into the Scott’s grip. Then brushing a thumb over the younger man’s lips, he reminded, “The room’s soundproof, Slim, you don’t have to hold back.” Fingers reached for Scott’s shirt buttons, unfastened them to slide his hands inside, fondle hardened tits, stroke the lean chest.

“May I?” Scott requested, and touched Logan’s fly.

“God, yeah, kid,” Logan groaned, throwing his head back as Summers opened the zipper; and his sturdy cock, swollen to nearly twice normal size, sprang free. Urgently he pulled Scott’s slacks down to get at that private flesh and reciprocate the favor.

“Logan…” Scott whispered, and climbed to his knees over the solid muscled body beneath him.

Logan just smiled as he pushed Scott’s slacks down to the knees, appreciating the other man’s equipment. Then urgently stripped off his jeans and undershorts as if he couldn’t stand to be clothed a moment longer. Summers followed his lead, shedding his clothes as well. And for a moment they paused in mutual admiration, eyes drinking the sight of each other’s naked form.

A little twinkle lit Logan’s eyes, even as his admiring gaze took in the pleasurable sight before him. “You like what you see, Slim?”

The way Logan looked at him made Scott’s head spin, as waves of lust coming off the older man flooded over him. But he just shrugged. “Oh, maybe. I suppose a little.”

A soft snort. “A little, huh?”

Dark rose tits fringed with coarse hairs caught the younger man’s interest, and he reached out curious fingers to explore the sensitive nubs. Logan growled appreciatively, watching Scott’s long fingers roll the nipples around. Without warning, those fingers tugged the tender little peaks, hard enough to elicit a gasp from their owner; and Logan hissed an intake of breath as pleasure-pain needled through the twin focusses in his chest.

Lying back on the bed, the towel spread beneath his body, Logan propped one hand under his head, knees spread wide, and challenged, “So, why don’t you show me just how much ‘a little’ is?”

The gravelly promise in Logan’s voice alone was enough to affect Summers, his cock lifting up against his belly. He clenched his eyes closed, forcibly trying to regain his equilibrium, but lost it completely as Logan pulled him bodily onto the bed, and a calloused hand closed around his cock, stroking it, teasing it.

A moan broke from Scott’s lips, as his hips squirmed to Logan’s touch. “Can I…?” he asked breathlessly, a hand resting on Logan’s thigh.

“I keep tellin’ ya, Slim, I’m all yours. Do whatever you want.”

Scott leaned forward, intently watching his own manipulation of the cock in his grasp. His grip pulled the loose skin down tight to the base, forcing the smooth shiny glans to expose itself to the world so he could admire it. But then the back of Logan’s fingernail stroking up and down the underside of his own flesh snapped his attention back to himself, and he couldn’t prevent a long hiss from escaping between his teeth.

God how much he wanted to return the favor. And leaning down, he flicked his tongue over the tip of the fascinating object in his hand.

Logan’s hand touched his cheek. “Summers…” he assured, “you don’t have to…”

“I want to,” Scott insisted earnestly, surprised himself to realize how much he meant it. A couple of months ago, the thought never would have crossed his mind, but now he wanted the taste of Logan on his tongue so badly, it hurt.

Logan only smiled, then shifted both their positions so Scott could keep it up, and Logan could reach his own hand deeper between Summers’ legs to forcibly stimulate his friend’s engorging sac. Now, more confidently, Scott’s wet tongue licked the soft inside of Logan’s thighs, tasted his balls; wet mouth sucked firmly.

A shudder of exquisite pleasure raced through Logan’s body. “… oh, shit, Summers, that’s good…!”

Scott’s own erection was reaching its peak. The excitement of the encounter threatened to push them both over the edge too soon. As he took Logan’s cock into his mouth, the older man lurched involuntarily, trying to ram the eager flesh right down Summers’ throat. Willingly Scott sucked it hard, feeling it begin to pump against his lips, teeth, tongue; then encouraged by Logan’s moans of pleasure, slipped a hand between the older man’s thighs, brushing his fingers over the dark secret place which he had earlier rubbed through Logan’s jeans. A tight hiss broke from between Logan’s teeth, as his hips twitched under the touch. More boldly, Scott’s fingers caressed the sweat-damp valley, brushing accidentally over Logan quivering hole.

“Summers!!” Logan cried out loud, squirming in delight, caught between a warm sucking mouth and a grazing finger. One hand dug into Scott’s short light-brown hair. A pulse throbbed in the younger man’s cock in Wolverine’s grip, and a pre-sem bubble oozed out the tip.

Logan was starting to leak too; Scott could taste the salty fluid as he tongued the little orifice.

But then abruptly Logan pulled himself free from that sweet sucking mouth – at which Summers moaned the loss – then gripping lean strong shoulders, the husky man pulled Scott down and rolled them over, dragging them both away from the headboard to lie flat. He lowered himself full-length atop his partner, pressing Summer’s body into the mattress. Arms embraced sweaty torsos, lips explored slick faces, tongues sinuously twined about each other.

Between them, swollen flesh rubbed and leaked. Desperately Scott wanted to hump, but Logan’s weight wouldn’t let him. He caressed Scott’s tits again, pinched them, making the younger man groan in erotic delight. Then grabbing Wolverine’s shoulders, Scott drew his knees up and locked his ankles together around the other man’s back.

“Fuck me,” he whispered huskily. “Fuck me, Logan.”

  
_to be continued_ …


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Logan’s bed, he and Scott become very well-acquainted… 
> 
> Knuckles caressed up and down the soft inner skin of Summers’ thigh, and as he felt the telltale bulges form between bony knuckles and press against his vulnerable flesh, he suddenly stiffened and groaned a noise that turned into a whimper; and his cock rose responsively.  
> Wolverine’s grin widened. “I’d say you’re ‘up’ for it.”

“Fuck me,” Scott whispered huskily. “Fuck me, Logan.”

And the words alone, falling from moist rosen lips sheened with pre-cum, washed a hot shimmer of ecstasy over Logan’s body, from his head to his toes, and he nearly came from that sweet promise alone.

Teasingly Logan’s glans played against the tight little sphincter. “You sure that’s what you want, Slim? Ain’t no turnin’ back…”

“Yes-s-s… god yes I’m sure…!! fuck me…!! god, just fuck me… good and hard…!!” Scott began to thrust his hips, trying to take the thick rod into himself, arms wrapped around Logan’s neck.

But the older man grabbed Scott’s hips, keeping him still, and trying to delay his own frenzy as well. “I’m gonna, kid, but you gotta loosen up a bit first.”

“I’m fine,” Scott panted eagerly, tightening his grip on Logan’s shoulder, as he thrust against the gently probing fingers. “I can take it.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Logan chuckled into Scott’s neck, biting him lightly on the throat to distract the younger man while one blunt finger slipped into Summers, an arm wrapped around Scott’s waist, as the young man shuddered, whimpering with the pleasure/pain of being breached for the first time. “But what I said in the cave still stands – I ain’t gunna hurt you.”

Helplessly Scott thrashed against Logan’s embrace, trying desperately to force himself further onto the older man’s hand, as a second finger joined the first, scissoring him open. “Just fuck me, Logan!... god please fuck me!”

Logan grinned to himself, the helpless begging zinging zaps of electricity right through his solar plexus into his crotch and already starting to curl his toes. “God, kid, how’m I supposed to resist that?”

“You’re not,” Scott gasped, panting breathlessly in tandem with his body’s thrusts down on the penetrating fingers. “Just… please…!”

“All right, kid,” Logan murmured against wet lips as he kissed Scott hard. Then reaching down to pull the eager buttocks apart, he pressed his glans to the moist opening.

Scott moaned in delicious sensation. Logan’s oozing pre-cum smeared viscidly around the hole, then the rigid organ began to force entrance, slowly but firmly.

“… ohh!...” Scott gasped and swallowed anxiously. He lurched his hips, and the thing pushed in. “… godd, Logan!...” he groaned.

“I’m here,” the other man whispered, forearms on either side of his partner’s tossing head. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Pushed in, then pulled back a fraction, in again deeper, back out. Each thrust harder than the previous one, deeper into the warm channel.

Logan could feel his cock-ridge slide up and down the tunnel, rubbing back and forth over the lump of a tender prostate. Deliberately he massaged the small internal organ, and Summers’ whole body quivered with the keen sensation.

Then a thrust unexpectedly deep and vigorous; and Summers gasped with the sudden pain, but the continuous pleasure overwhelmed discomfort. “… oh god, Logan, I’m gonna come!...” he whined in near-ecstasy, his own throbbing cock pulsing between their pressed bellies.

“Go ahead,” Logan urged, and buried himself in the warm erotic suction of a tight ass. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Summers began slamming down on the thick flesh each time that Logan thrust in, and their breathing grunted together as they pounded enthusiastically. Sphincter muscles relaxed as the invasive cock rammed inside, then squeezed tightly as it withdrew, in perfect powerful rhythm.

Ecstasy flooded the older man’s brain. He could barely catch a breath. “You tellin’ me, Slim…” he gasped, “you’ve… never done this before… with another man?”

Scott grinned, hitching his hips up stronger with each thrust in, his own breath no steadier. “That’s… what I’m telling you…”

Sweat dribbled down between Logan’s eyes, rivuleted down spinal valley. “Then you got… a natural talent, kid… and you shouldn’t have… waited this long… to do… something with it…” The last word morphed into a rough growl, as Scott deliberately tightened as hard as he could, nearly driving Wolverine over the edge.

Again they kissed, hungry lustful kisses, while bodies humped together. Again Summers twisted Logan’s tits, then slid one hand up to the man’s nape to force his face closer; tongues intruded, demanded.

Sweat rolled down hot skin, slicked their rubbing bodies. Summers’ cock was leaking generously, heels digging into the sensitive area of Logan’s kidneys. He could hardly think straight, brain and body lost in a frenzy of pounding, gasping, cock begging release.

Rough fists clutching soft brown hair pushed Scott’s head into the pillow; then with a sharp hard _skritch!!_ , two sets of adamantium claws suddenly shot out and jammed into the pillow on either side of his face, not a hair’s breadth from his ears. And with a sharp yell of surprise – a split-second of thinking he’d been stabbed himself – Scott exploded massive orgasm… to Wolverine’s feral grin of complete delight… hard spasm surging through him, anus clenching convulsively. In several hot bursts, sticky fluid smeared their bellies as he writhed helplessly, caught in the violent throes of ecstasy, and he clutched Wolverine’s hot body tightly to himself.

The intensity of Cyclops’ reaction thrust Logan over the edge. The spastic jerking of Summers’ ass tugged his cock in hard stimulation. His balls tightened, and volcanic climax overtook him, roiling like lava through every cell of his being. Uncontrolled pressure shot his load into Scott’s body. Vigorously the older man pumped and pumped, ramming into his own wetness, pounding as hard as he could into the compliant ass. Two bodies locked together in powerful need… animal need… _masculine_ need…

Until finally both were drained dry; and as the convulsions died away, they collapsed, boneless, Logan still on top, still between Summer’s thighs, still buried to the hilt inside the man beneath, while Scott’s hands gripped sweat-slicked muscled buttocks, to squeeze and massage aimlessly. Breath dragged through air-burned throats, adrenalin-charged hearts throbbing to catch up.

Finally as their breathing quieted, Logan retracted his claws, pulled his sated organ out of the nice warm enveloping sheath, and rolled off, to collapse face-down beside his partner.

Stretching his arms over his head, Summers straightened his legs. “God, Logan… If I’d known I was gonna get a haircut, I’d’ve called in the barber.”

That same wild grin lit the feral man’s eyes. “That good, huh?” Logan laid an arm across a cum-smeared belly. “So… was it as good as you wanted?”

Cyclops couldn’t help but smile. “Better than I ever could have imagined.”

Turning his head toward the man next to him, Scott noted the ripped material and padding at his cheek, and couldn’t help but query: “Are you always that rough on your pillow?”

A little shrug. “I guess I’m gonna be from now on.”

For awhile they lay together in the silence.

As they lay together in post-coital relaxation, talking a little, Scott mentioned, “I know we haven’t always… been on the best of terms…”

– a soft snuffle of amusement from the other side of the bed –

“… in fact, we’ve been at loggerheads since the day we met…” the younger man had to admit. “Until last month, I never in the world would’ve imagined we would ever be… doing anything like this… But now…”

Logan turned his head to look at the man lying next to him. “Now what?”

The younger man shrugged. “… I don’t know how you want to play this... I’m just not sure what...”

“What do _you_ want, Summers?” Logan asked, not unkindly cutting through Scott’s scrambled musings.

“I’m not sure yet but... I don’t think I want this to be a one-off thing, but...” In the stillness of the room, Logan could hear Scott’s voice grow distant.

“But Jean,” Logan prompted, unintentionally harsh.

“Even you wanted Jean for awhile,” Scott reminded.

A quick nod of head. “Sure. What red-blooded man wouldn’t?”

“I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Neither do I. But I’m not gonna to lie to you, kid; I want this. I want you.” The words were enough to make Scott shiver, caught by the desire in Logan’s voice. “I’m willin’ to share you with Jean,” he admitted, fingers tracing abstract patterns on the smooth skin of Summers’ thigh, “ – but I doubt she’s willin’ to share you with me… So, I ain’t gunna push. You have to make this call for yourself.”

Scott shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. “I need to talk to her. I need to tell her the truth about how I feel.”

“And how’s that?”

Scott turned, his heart in his throat as he looked at Logan. “I... I want you too... more than I ever thought possible... With Jean it’s… different… I love her, and… the bedtime’s good, but… _this_ is what I want…”

Slowly Logan stroked caressing touches along the long leg pressed up against him. “So, you sayin’ you wanna do it again some time?”

“Yes,” Scott answered earnestly. “Very much.” His smile broadened to a playful grin. “Just not for awhile… I won’t be able to get it up like that again ‘til I don’t know when…”

“Oh?” the half-wild man questioned, grin pulling back from his teeth in a slightly feral challenge, while the caresses up and down the soft inner skin of Summers’ thigh deliberately shifted from Logan’s palm to the back of his hand, his knuckles.

A tight little shiver tingled down Scott’s frame at the slightly dangerous suggestive gesture. But then, even moreso, as he felt the telltale bulges form between bony knuckles and press against vulnerable flesh, he suddenly stiffened and groaned a noise that turned into a whimper; and his cock rose responsively.

Wolverine’s grin widened. “I’d say you’re _up_ for it right now…”  
* * * * *  
 _to be continued_ …


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott must now face the inevitable unpleasantry: breaking the news to Jean.
> 
> He hadn’t intended to leave Jean alone all night. And he certainly never had intended, based on one hot sex-filled night with the wild man, to embark on the life-changing challenge which now stood before him.  
> And yet now, in the space of twelve hours, *everything* had shifted.

Scott found her in the library around 10 the next morning, staring out the large drizzle-spattered picture-window at the gardens down below. She was dressed in a pullover sweater and shapely skirt, dull-grey that mirrored the wet outside-world; yet the very drabness set off the long auburn tresses that swirled about her shoulders, and she was so beautiful, framed in the muted light glowing through overcast, that he almost regretted what he had come here to say.

At least they wouldn’t be disturbed. The children were all attending their morning classes, some with the Professor, some suffering through biology taught by Dr. McCoy – suffering, not because the subject was so boring, but because Hank always felt he had to liven up each class with a stand-up comedy routine, that he thought was hysterically funny even after the tenth time around, sprinkled with obscure philosophical and literary references that flew right over the children’s heads – and most of the adults’ as well. (Such as the one about Descartes being asked by a stewardess if he would like a cup of coffee, to which he would respond “I think not,” before vanishing instantaneously from his airplane seat – which Hank always considered a hilarious thigh-slapper…) Another class of kids worked in the gymnasium, being run through their paces by Colossus.

Down below, outside, Ororo moved through the misty garden, checking on the plants, almost seeming to glide through the heavy mist-laden air – the storm goddess in her element – with a few eager, and wet, botany students trundling along behind her.

And Logan was – well, wherever it was that Logan went, when he wanted some time away from the mansion. Could be down at local country-western bar six miles down the road shooting a few rounds of pool, could be out in the back-grounds of the estate chopping firewood, could be on his motorcycle riding across the border on a week-long sabbatical to the Northwest Territories to visit the old homestead once again.

Scott hadn’t seen Jean at breakfast. He and Logan had missed the 7 AM communal meal in the dining hall, sleeping in late, after a heavy night of love-making: screwing, dozing for awhile, then waking up for another hard sweat-lubed work-out, collapsing again for an hour or so of deep sleep, before waking up again for more exploring eager hands and tongues and rock-hard cocks taking them both to the ultimate peak of pleasure, drawing another mind-blowing orgasm out of them, then dropping them back again into unconscious exhaustion. One thing Scott quickly discovered (to either his dismay, or delight – he hadn’t yet decided): due to Logan’s physiology and healing factors, his sexual refractory period was a mere half of Scott’s or any other normal human male’s.

Scott hadn’t intended to miss breakfast – for that matter, he hadn’t intended to leave Jean alone all night. He had meant to spend no more than an hour or so with Logan last night, then return to his quarters and their bed, where Jean waited, and take time to think things through. And he certainly never had intended, based on one hot sex-filled night with the wild man, to embark on the life-changing challenge which now stood before him.

And yet now, in the space of twelve hours, _everything_ had shifted.

She didn’t look at him, didn’t turn away from the window; nevertheless, he could feel the faintest wisps of her psychic tendrils barely touching his mind, curious, searching. She would never force intrusion on another’s mind – not even his – yet being as close as they had for so long, it was almost second nature for her essence to interweave with his, almost without conscious intent.

“You didn’t come to bed last night,” she pronounced succinctly – and the slight distance and chill in her tone didn’t escape Scott’s notice. She had to have known… something… A tiny break in her voice, a tight pull of lips. “You and Logan must have had an awful lot to talk about.”

A flush of shame heated Scott’s face. “Yes, well… we… that is… I…” He caught his own stammering, and stopped, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “I need to tell you something, Jean…”

She said nothing, but continued looking out the window. A little hitch caught in her breath, lower lip caught between teeth – _she knew_ – and all his resolve withered… god how could he do this to her? Every cell in his body wanted to just turn around and walk out right now… go to Logan and tell him to forget it…. that it had been a stupid mistake… that his place was with Jean.

– except _that_ would be the lie, and he would always know it… And even if he stayed with Jean, his heart and mind would be elsewhere, and _she_ would know… and that would be worse, like a wound that never healed… god, how had this even come about? what sorcery did the feral man wield, to turn Scott’s world completely upside down like this?

But his throat was paralyzed, how could he say the words that needed to be said?

Until finally she said them for him. “You and Logan.”  Voice breathy, taut, cool.  “There’s something between you, isn’t there?”

Scott could only hang his head. God, he felt like the worst cad. “Yes… god, Jean…” He wouldn’t lie to her, wouldn’t insult her like that. He turned away, couldn’t look at her. “God, I’m sorry, Jean… we didn’t mean for it to happen…”

Green eyes started to tear up, but voice remained sharp. “And what exactly happened?”

“I…uh, didn’t come to bed last night, because, ummm…” A deep breath. Get it over quick. A nice clean stab wound, instead of a ragged tear. “Logan and I… slept together last night.”

A tight stiff nod of head. “I thought so,” she pronounced, and moisture was already glistening brightly in her eyes. “I could sense it.”

He had to fight not to recoil. He hated how transparent he was to her.

She must have felt it, and snapped a little sharply, “Don’t worry – I didn’t read your minds. You’ve been different – you both have been different – since you got home.”

“I didn’t try to pay attention to him…”

“You didn’t have to – you were trying so hard not to, that it was obvious. And… I’ve seen the way he’s been looking at you… You’ve never been like that before. You’ve always disliked each other. Except for missions, you’ve always tried to avoid each other.”

“I was wrong about him, Jean. He saved my life. He stayed with me, did everything he could to make sure I pulled through – even though I know he was injured and suffering terribly. I could have died, but he wouldn’t let me.”

“Oh,” she nodded, and her tone relaxed ever so slightly. “So, this is some kind of gratitude re-payment? just a one-time occurrence… well, I can understand… you were under horrible stress during the accident, and one thing can lead to another…” She walked toward him, a smile warming her lips, hands out to take his. “We can work our way through this… it doesn’t have to break us up, dear.”

He could let her think that, but it wouldn’t hide the reality. He shook his head, stepped away. “No, Jean, I’m sorry, but you have to understand. This wasn’t just a one-time thing… I want Logan … and he wants me… I’m… pretty sure I’m gay. I know that now.”

And the distant chill returned to her eyes, hands dropped back to her sides. “Oh.”

A single syllable, and nothing more.

Silence clung palpably. God, that was worse than yelling and screaming.

Now he reached for her. “Please, Jean, say something more.”

But this time, she was the one to pull away, her posture held in stiff formality. “What do you want me to say?”

“Like… you hate my guts…. like you want to throw something at me…”

At the mention, a faint shaking noise began – the rattling of some of Xavier’s antiques in the corner hutch. A sharp tightening of red lips, and the shaking stopped abruptly.

“So, you just now discovered you’re gay,” she snapped bitterly. “And how could you not know something like that before?”

What answer could he give? Because the right man had never brought it up before. Because lying with a woman could never come anywhere close to being caught up in that raw rough whirlwind that was Logan screwing the living daylights out of him. Because he knew now that he would never want anything else for as long as he lived…

Yet all he could say was, “It never came up before. But… now that it has… Jean, it feels real, it feels right to me. I don’t know how else to tell you.”

“Oh, I see,” she said icily. “So, that means everything between us… _wasn’t_ real? This _doesn’t_ feel ‘right’ to you? it was just ‘convenient’ while you were ‘finding’ yourself?” She crossed the room, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor, sharp and fierce. “And I’m supposed to say, oh that’s okay… never mind us? all the time we’ve been together?” She glowered at him; and he swore – for just a moment – he could see flames flickering in the depths of emerald eyes. But then abruptly she looked away, back out the window again. “So, that’s what you came here to tell me – that we’re breaking up?”

He looked at her, tried to say something, but now that he was here with her, he could hardly say the final words. How could he tell Jean that he realized now that all he wanted was Logan in him, filling him – _completing him_ – something she couldn’t give him?

“Fine!!” she snapped. “Since you want to be screwed by that hairy old bull-moose in heat, then go!  Don’t expect me to beg you to stay – because I won’t!!” and turned on her heel and flounced huffily out of the room.

Scott followed her out into the hall, desperate to find the words to stop her, to comfort her, to make this right – but the lump in his throat choked him.

Entering from the damp outdoors, Ororo paused at the base of the stairs as Jean charged past her. Curiously the black woman glanced up to where Scott stood on the landing, and queried blankly, “What was that all about?”

“Nothing,” Scott retorted.

“Angry-looking nothing,” she frowned in concern. “Should I go after her?”

Scott couldn’t find the words, but he nodded tightly. Everyone in the mansion was going to find out sooner or later anyway, and maybe a little woman-talk could calm Jean down.

Taking the hint, Storm followed Jean out into the garden.

At a loss as to what else to do, Scott went back to Logan’s room.

  
* * * * *

 _to be continued_ …


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan helps Scott get over Jean.
> 
> “Get naked, Summers,” the Wolverine growled. “I ain’t waitin’ ‘til bed-time.”  
> Scott grinned, hot flush swirling over his body, fevering his skin. “So, is this what it’s going to be like from now on?”  
> “You got a problem with that, Slim?”  
> A half-grin tugged the corner of Summers’ lips. “Nope. Not a bit.”

When Logan got back, he knew immediately where Scott was. He could smell the younger man’s distress.

Scott was sitting on the floor on the far side of the bed, his back braced against the wall, half-hidden in shadow.

“So, how did it go?” Logan asked carefully, treading lightly as he hung his jacket over the back of a chair.

“How do you think it went?” Scott snapped.

“You think you made a mistake, Summers? You wanna forget about this, and go back to her?”

For a long silent pause, Scott didn’t respond, didn’t move, brow creased, eyes frowning shut behind ruby lenses, jaw set.

“I told you, it’s your call,” Logan reminded. “If you just wanna call what we did, a little… experimentation, or maybe just working out some left-over stress from the cave…”

Lips pulled taut. “Is that what _you_ want to call it?” Scott retorted sharply. “Just a little one-time mindless fun, and ‘oh, by the way, honey, I didn’t get your name’ ?”

“I told you what I want, Summers. That ain’t gonna change.”

“And I told you what _I_ want. No, I don’t want to go back to Jean. Does that make me a wimp because I want to play bottom to your top? That I want to be your ‘woman’? Because I realize now that’s what – that’s _who_ – I am. Does that make me weak?”

“No. I’ve never thought of you as weak. I’ll admit I’ve thought different things about you in the past three years – not all of them complimentary, I’ll confess – but never that you were weak or a wimp. And you’re not my woman. If I wanted a woman, I’d still be trying to get Jean away from you.”

A soft snuff. “Well, now, that’s ironic, isn’t it?”

The other man’s expression softened. Ever since Logan had entered the mansion and their lives, the three of them had been inextricably tied together. Even though Jean had never succumbed to Logan’s advances – well, no more than a few moments of desperate kisses one time during a mission a couple of years ago, when they thought Scott dead, and that they would all be dead soon. Logan would always cherish those kisses.

Well, a lot of water had passed under the bridge since then.

“So, are you sure you know what you want, Slim?” the gruff man queried, a little sharper than he intended.

“Yes.” Scott’s voice was strong and resolved now, as he climbed to his feet, taking Logan by the upper arms. “I want this.”

Logan eyed the younger man. “ ‘Cause I told you I can share you with Jean… if you want it that way…”

Scott snorted, the amusement of that thought enough to break the mood. “No you can’t.”

That half-feral grin again, as Logan abruptly reversed their positions, pushing Scott against the wall. “You’re right. I can’t.”

Scott’s breath caught in his throat, all uncertainty gone, as the larger man pressed against him, teeth biting the side of his neck.

“Get naked, Summers,” the Wolverine growled. “I ain’t waitin’ ‘til bed-time.”

Scott grinned, hot flush swirling over his body, fevering his skin. “So, is this what it’s going to be like from now on?”

“You got a problem with that, Slim?”

A half-grin tugged the left corner of Summers’ lips. “Nope. Not a bit.”

The grip released; a large hand swatted his rear sharply. “Good. So, move your ass. I got an itch that needs scratchin’.”

Leaning against the wall, Scott just stood there smiling, making no move to undress. Reached for Logan’s hard-muscled torso, slipped hands up underneath Logan’s t-shirt, pulled Logan to him. Logan’s forearms pressed against the wall on either side of Scott’s head, foreheads barely touching. They kissed, and kissed again. Kissed and kissed, trying to explore all the angles, all the depths.

One hand came down to stroke Scott’s face. A fingertip grazed over full rosen lips, lips far too pretty to be a man’s, then took him under the chin. As Logan leaned in for another kiss, those pretty lips parted, and Logan possessed them in a hard brutal kiss.

Tongue invaded… and Logan wanted to completely penetrate this young sleek body. Penetrate it, possess it – own it…

A tiny lopsided grin, as he lightly fingered the collar of Scott’s shirt. “Seems you need help gettin’ undressed.” And slowly a single claw extended a few inches between the knuckles of right forefinger and middle finger, and flicked the top button of Scott’s shirt off. Slid down to the next button, and flicked that one off as well.

“Hey!” Scott complained, but not too vehemently, as the edges of his shirt parted, exposing smooth hairless skin. “You’re going to ruin my clothes.”

“Ain’t ruinin’ nothin’ you’re gonna be needin’ from now on, Slim,” the gruff man assured, as the claw grazed up the bared skin of Summers’ chest.

A tiny chuckle, and Scott tried not to move, as the blade, capable of slicing through 12-inch-steel like butter, caressed his cheek, his jawline. The metal was warm from hiding within the flesh of Wolverine’s forearm. “What, you’re saying I don’t need my clothes any more?” he retorted. “So, are you planning on keeping me naked from now on?”

“Naked and in bed, where I should‘a’ put you a long time ago.”

Scott grinned widely, and tilted his head back. Sensually the claw edge drew a line down his throat – this blade, which could behead him in a instant, didn’t even draw a single drop of blood, but left no more than a thin red welt down white skin. He couldn’t help the tiniest little whimper keening from his lips, as heat suffused his skin, to pool in his groin and lift his cock.

Logan grinned, feeling the young man’s private flesh swell against his muscled thigh pressing possessively, intimately, between Scott’s thighs. The single short blade drew its knife-edge along a smooth cheek. “So, you, uh, like the claws, huh? Seems to me, Summers, you’re developing a kink for ‘em…”

Not daring to move an inch, Scott grinned. Tip of tongue ran sensually along the edge of even white teeth. “Maybe I am. So, does that make me some kind of weirdo pervert?”

“Well, I dunno – does it?” – and the blade caressed ever so carefully back down the side of his throat, down his sternum to the third shirt-button and sliced that off as well.

Another tiny helpless noise from a vulnerable throat.

Then retracting the claw, Logan took the younger man’s chin again, tilted his head for another kiss, just a light one this time.

Gripping the edges of Scott’s shirt in two fists, Logan simply jerked the bottom button off, then pushed the material off smooth lean shoulders. Lust-warm eyes gazed over hairless chest. “There,” the gruff voice announced. “That’s much better.”

Scott let the garment slide off his arms and slip to the floor. He looked down to watch as Logan had to pinch one tit between thumb and forefinger, pinch it hard. The warm hand slid up the plane of his chest, palm pressed against the slight swelling of breast, rubbing ever so lightly over the hardening nipple. A sensual suggestive pout. “So, I suppose you’ll want to help remove my pants as well?”

“That depends,” – and the stroking hand reached down to cup and coddle the swollen package in the front of Summers’ slacks – “if you need help removing ‘em…” Hand slipped further between his thighs to heft the bulk of his balls, and Scott couldn’t help but hiss sharply. But no claws extruded. Half-lidded hazel eyes gazed into his face, and a low voice hissed, “You want ‘em, don’cha, Slim? You want ‘em real bad…”

Pink tongue-tip flicked out. “Mmm, maybe… maybe not…”

“Oh, you want ‘em, all right.” A firm squeeze of warm hand, then the older man released him, then moved away to settle back on the bed, propped up on his elbows, one knee drawn up. “But you’re gonna have to beg for ‘em, Summers. C’mon – I wanna hear you beg.”

Scott unbuckled his belt, slid it out of belt-loops, then unzipped his fly. Already a little dampness of excitement stained the front of his undershorts, but he held his voice steady. “How much you want to bet you’ll be begging before I do?”

A wild grin. “Well, that’s a bet you’ll lose, bub. I don’t beg. For anything.”

Summers chuckled. “Really. Well, we’ll just have to test that some time, won't we ?….”

  
 _to be continued_ …


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Scott have a good time in bed…
> 
> Logan couldn’t help but moan utter dissolution and arch his back, to try to move in the warm grip of his lover. “Damn, not only aren’t you a shy little virgin, you’re… getting pretty assertive… damn, I… can’t think straight… with you… doin’ this… to me…”  
> “Good, you’re not supposed to think straight.” Sensually Scott leaned down. “And hey, I didn’t get to be leader of the X-Men by being a shy little wuss.”

Scott unbuckled his belt, slid it out of belt-loops, then unzipped his fly. Already a little dampness of excitement stained the front of his undershorts, but he held his voice steady. “How much you want to bet you’ll be begging before I do?”

A wild grin. “Well, that’s a bet you’ll lose, bub. I don’t beg. For anything.”

Summers chuckled. “Really. Well, we’ll just have to test that some time, won’t we? See how long it takes.” And pushing his slacks down over slender hips, he stepped out of them, then sat in a nearby chair to remove shoes and socks, then strolled back to the bed. “So, aren’t you getting undressed?”

A finger snugged beneath the elastic of Scott’s undershorts. “I will, in a bit. But only after you get naked… and after I’ve had a chance to just look at you for awhile…”

“Well, you’re gonna have to wait a bit for that,” Scott teased, removing the finger and pulling the elastic back into place. Deliberately letting Logan get an eyeful of a slender discipline-hard body, he drew a knee up onto the mattress, while stroking one hand sensually, seductively, down his own body, the curve of buttock, taut line of long lean thigh… eliciting an animal noise from Wolverine’s throat.

Invitingly Logan’s knees sprawled apart. Summers crawled toward him, then lay face-down between the offered legs, upper body propped up on elbows. Abruptly Logan grabbed the other man’s wrists, yanked his arms out from under him, dragged him closer, caught his legs in a scissors-lock. Face tightened belligerently, to which the younger man made innocent eyes at him.

A muttered drawl. “Fucking little tease.” Then pulling his partner a couple of inches closer, Logan closed the distance between them with a hard kiss full on the mouth.

Compliantly the younger man melted into the kiss with a contented moan. Slipping a hand up to Logan’s head, Scott carded his fingers through thick dark waves, clutched a fistful, while his other hand stroked down a hard-muscled back. The pressure between their bodies tingled all sorts of delights up and down sensitive nerves. Nipples met nipples, erecting as they rubbed against each other, genitals pressed between the thin cotton of Summers’ shorts and Logan’s denim.

Finally breaking the kiss, Scott sat up, spraddling his lover’s thighs, while Logan propped himself up against the pillows. Gripping the hem of Logan’s T-shirt, Scott pulled it up and over the other man’s head, then settled himself in to explore hard-muscled chest. Fingers plucked at the coarse hairs curling about the older man’s tits and down the torsal mid-line.

Logan watched the exploration. “You like it, Slim?” he queried, taking the younger man by the chest, rubbing thumbs over nipples.

Summers smiled, drifted fingertips down solid flesh. “Yeah, I like it.” Sensually he rotated his hips on top of his partner, drawing a deep moan out of Wolverine’s chest. Hands slid down Logan’s belly to his belt, undid it, and dropped it to the floor, then pulled down the zipper of the jeans’ fly. “And it’s time for _you_ to get naked for _me_.”

“It’s all yours, kid,” Logan offered, lifting his hips to assist the removal of his clothing, and helping push down jeans and shorts together.

A toss of the unwanted garments to the floor, then Summers turned his interest to the dark pink swelling flesh rising to meet him. Lightly he played fingertips over the rose glans peeking from its foreskin, and felt the eager flesh respond excitedly. The back of fingernail glided lightly down a vein-ridged shaft to its base, back up again, then warm fingers closed about the thick organ.

Logan sucked in a shaky breath. “Dammit, Summers, I still don’t believe you were an innocent little virgin twenty-four hours ago.”

A gleeful little grin. “But I was. Guess I’m a fast-learner.” A slow milking stroke sizzled electricity right down Logan’s legs, and involuntarily he kicked.

Summers just smiled and rode the bucking body beneath him. Thumb and forefinger ringed the begging organ and firmly stripped it from base to tip, then back down again, while Logan thrashed helplessly. “Putty in my hands,” the younger man smirked, adding a jerky little twist to his manipulations. Desperately the blood-darkened head poked out of its sheath, seeking the friendly fingers, but the teasing digits withheld satisfaction. Then stilling his action, Summers closed his fist once more and just held the hardening flesh, feeling the blood vessels throb against his palm.

Logan couldn’t help but moan utter dissolution, as a playful thumb skated ever so lightly around his smooth warm glans, and arched his back, to try to move in the warm grip of his lover. “Damn, not only aren’t you a shy little virgin, you’re… getting pretty assertive… damn, I… can’t think straight… with you… doin’ this… to me…”

“Good, you’re not supposed to think straight.” Sensually Scott leaned down and brushed his lips against the velvet head. “And hey, I didn’t get to be leader of the X-Men by being a shy little wuss.” The light caress shifted to gentle mouthing and exploratory tonguing. A teasing little grin. “That really is what you’ve always thought of me… isn’t it?”

“No – no… It’s just that – ” Logan tried to insist, but his train of thought derailed abruptly as a probing tongue tasted his urethral slit. “ _Gdddd_!!”

“What?” Scott questioned, and nipped the down the wrinkled skin of the shaft down to Logan’s balls. Teasingly his lips released the older man’s private parts, and traced a wet trail back up his chest to his face. “Unless you’re trying to say you want me to stop…?”

“Summers!” Wantonly Logan writhed beneath the intimate attention. “… No!… it’s just that I want to…” Suddenly he grabbed his tormentor, pushed a hand into Scott’s briefs, between his legs to palm his testicles; peremptorily insisted, “ – I want to do this to you instead!”

“Logan!” Scott practically choked with laughter, and doubled over the man’s body. Firmly the hand squeezed and pulled, squeezed and pulled, and Scott wriggled a little, feeling the sensitive length of his cock pass back and forth against a hairy forearm. Again he leaned forward to kiss Logan’s mouth, shoved his tongue in deep. And as he impaled Logan’s throat, Logan unexpectedly pushed a finger into his ass. A groan of incredible excitement moaned from Summers’ throat as the finger worked in deeper, and he pushed down against Logan’s hand pressed to his crotch, let the man rock him slightly. The probing digit rubbed him internally in the moist warmth of his channel, sending electric stings right down the shaft of his penis, and starting an ooze of pre-cum from the opening.

Gasping for breath, Scott broke the kiss, hips still squirming against the pressure of a warm palm. “Logan…” he panted. “Do it up my ass now… I don’t wanna come… ‘til you get it up my ass… please…!”

Logan smirked, lips touching Scott’s face, and finger still working its magic through the tight ring of muscle. “Y’know, I’d say that sounds like begging to me,” he murmured, reluctantly disengaging the intimate grip he held inside the younger man. “I win. All right, c’mon, roll over.”

Obligingly Scott turned over, face resting between his forearms, and rump in the air, while Logan hurriedly stripped off the undershorts blocking his way. Then kneeling between Summers’ spread knees, he began to trace the smooth, slightly clammy skin. Took the time to stroke over shoulders, down slender flanks, graze one finger up and down spinal valley.

A soft noise, something akin to a purr, escaped Scott’s throat. “Logan…” he whispered.

The caresses drifted over the small of his back, down to cup the curve of lean muscled buttocks.

“You know what I like best about you, Slim?” the older man ventured. “Your ass.”

Sensually Scott squirmed his behind in counterpoint to Logan’s stroking, and riposted, “And here I thought it was my sparkling personality.”

“Naah, your ass. Been thinking about it ever since the cave. Can’t get it out of my mind. Touching it, rubbing it… shoving something up it…”

“You’re a pervert.”

“Yeah.” Gently he pushed a finger into the tender little anus presented to him, to prepare it for his thick cock. “And you can’t resist me.”

Summers’ own organ was weeping pre-cum onto the bedspread. “Not a bit,” he agreed, between teeth gritted in the first tendrils of ecstasy.

Then unable to wait a moment longer, Logan pulled his finger out, and guided his stiff prod to the entrance. “And right now,” he pronounced through a tight throat, “shoving something up it is exactly… what I’m gunna do…” Firmly he pushed the hard flesh into the warm slick tunnel, eliciting a helpless moan from Scott’s lips, then began to pump rhythmically. Eagerly Scott squirmed on the swollen intruder that rammed in and out of his warmth, began squeezing his anus, working it, gripping and relaxing, gripping and relaxing; and Logan knew he wouldn’t last any time at all with that exquisite stimulation.

Then taking hold of the young man’s pelvic ridges, he got serious, hips pistoning reflexively, slamming and slamming into the satin sheath. Both men grunted with exertion, reared and bucked, as they raced toward climax. Just as Logan sensed his testicles move and his prostate tighten, he felt Summers stiffen suddenly; and from the younger man’s cock jouncing again a firm belly spurted several jolts of semen. And then Logan lost control, and his juices flooded Summers’ insides, while each man’s intensity tried to out-do the other’s, wrenching breath and wringing sweat and trip-hammering hearts, until they collapsed limply in the puddle on the bed.

For a long time they just lay there, Logan still atop, still filling the hot channel, unwilling to withdraw any time soon. The sensation was better than anything he had felt in a long time. So perfect, how well his cock fit inside this man, how much they belonged together. How much time they had wasted, fighting each other, countering each other, challenging each other.

Fondly he looked down at the younger man, grazed fingers through soft light-brown hair. Thank god all that foolish posturing was past now. And this man belong to him now, completely.

“Logan,” Scott murmured.

“Mm?” Carefully he withdrew his softening but still swollen organ from the warm damp depths. Fluid dribbled out and added to the wetness on the bedspread, but it didn’t matter; and the two men sprawled together on the disheveled bed, embracing each other loosely, sharing gentle kisses.

“You know, what you said in the cave – about this not feeling wrong…”

“Yeah, kid.”

“Well, this feels right to me, too.”

Contentedly the older man resettled himself into the curves and planes of his lover’s body. “And Jean? You, uh, okay with that now?”

A hesitation, frowning, but then quick nod of head anyway. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

A little kiss, a tender hand drifting across sweaty fluttering skin. “All right.”

The younger man smiled, let his fingers slide aimlessly over his bed-mate’s belly. “Just one thing, though…”

“Oh? What’s that?”

Scott’s smile deepened. “Well, if I’m your bottom from now on, are you still going to be able to acknowledge me as your leader on our missions? will you be able to follow my orders?”

A grin. “Have I ever?” Another kiss to side of neck. “Fine – outside that door, you can do whatever you want, Slim, and I’ll play along. But inside this room, I lead – you follow.”

“Funny, I seem to recall a couple of times now, you said that this,” – trailing a fingertip down Logan’s flank, along front of hip, over top of thigh – “belonged to me… and I could do anything I wanted to it. Well, I just might decide to call you on that someday… What if _I_ want to lead… and _you_ follow? what are you going to do?” A pouty sensual challenge. “Are you going to go back on your word… ‘bub’?”

A dry sidelong glance. “You’re gunna hold me to that, ain’t ya, Slim?”

Summers’ lips couldn’t help but quirk in a tiny triumphant grin. “Yes, I think I am.”

* * * * *  
 _to be continued_ …  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stifling atmosphere in the conference room that afternoon had little to do with the summer temperature outside. Logan glanced over at Cyclops across the table, and grinned to himself: Summers was sitting there, suffering a massive hard-on, and no way to relieve it… Wolverine could smell the pungent waves of arousal washing off the younger man, the sheer desperation for Logan to screw the bejeezus out of him…

The stifling atmosphere in the conference room that afternoon had little to do with the summer temperature outside, and almost everything to do with the energy battle tossing back and forth across the long table. For the first time in forever, Jean and Scott were sitting as far from each other as possible, pointedly ignoring each other, Jean glowering, Scott discomfited. Logan’s grin was more feral than normal and, for some reason, focussed on Scott.

Casually Wolverine snapped the blades in and out, in and out, just playing with them, just an inch or two, thrusting and retracting, back and forth… _skritch!_ … setting everyone’s teeth on edge… _skritch!_ … in and out… _skritch!_ …

Trying to ignore the subliminal fire-exchange going on about him, and continue the discussion at hand, Hank McCoy cleared his throat. “I’ll be meeting with Christopher Evens tomorrow,” he announced, as Logan’s claws snikt out again.

Everybody was frowning, but for some reason Scott was positively cringing, squirming in his chair. Hank considered that he hadn’t seen their fearless leader so… tense, in a long time. In fact, the whole dynamic felt wrong. Of course everybody in the room was cognizant of the long-standing charged triangle of Scott, Jean, and Logan, although no one ever interfered, not even the professor, as all parties involved were responsible adults, and as long as the interplay didn’t interfere with X-Men missions or destabilize life at the mansion.

But now – something had definitely shifted. Had the two men finally come to blows over Dr. Grey – or had Logan finally won Jean over and taken her away from Scott? – No, that didn’t seem quite it.

The big blue man tried to overlook it and continue, “Senator Evens is planning to present his bill to the president hopefully on Thursday before Friday’s referendum. This could really add teeth to the Mutant Protection Act, if it passes.”

Logan grunted, studying his knuckles. “So, do you think this politician will be any more honest than the last one?”

“I’m… quietly confident,” Hank nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve known Kit Evens for some time now, and he seems genuinely honest about supporting mutant rights. His bill appears well-thought-out, and I saw nothing in it that could be construed as a hidden agenda.”

Another _skritch!_ in and out; and in the corner, Peter Rasputin’s huge frame shimmered with faint gloss of blue steel wisping patterns over his skin, as the normally-gentle Russian giant was obviously barely stifling the urge to armor-up and body-slam the Canadian feral into the wall.

At the head of table, Xavier acknowledged Dr. McCoy’s assessment. “I agree, I’ve known Senator Evens since he was on the city council, and he has always supported open discussion between humans and mutants.”

But the gruff man just snorted. “Well, I’ll believe it when I see it. Probably just a trick to get us to let our guard down.” _Skritch!_ again – and Scott squirmed, a sharp quiver tightening his neck muscles, as Wolverine tossed an amused half-lidded side-glance his way.

Sitting beside the professor, Storm chided, “Nobody is letting their guard down, Logan. Yet we must be willing to trust humans as much as we can.”

Another snuff. “That’s a funny comment coming from you, ‘Ro.”

A tip of head. “Well, I have come to consider that it is time to realize that distrust will get us nowhere. Just as there are humans who are willing to overcome their fear of mutants and begin to trust us.”

Again. _skritch_ … _!!_ needling everyone like fingernails on chalkboard…

“And Logan…” – white lightning flickering in dark eyes, voice dropping low and dangerous – “If you don’t stop that horrendous noise _right now_ , I predict there will be a tornado this afternoon which will pick up your precious motorcycle, and scatter the pieces across three counties.”

Grudgingly Wolverine retracted the blades (because even a feral berserker knows better than to rile the Storm Goddess…!). But he glanced over at Cyclops, and grinned to himself: Summers was sitting there, suffering a massive hard-on, and no way to relieve it… Wolverine could smell the pungent waves of arousal washing off the younger man, the sheer desperation for Logan to screw the bejeezus out of him…

The professor felt the pull of the psychic thread connecting him and all of the X-Men. Jean’s energy snapped with anger while she glowered sparks at Scott and Logan, whereas Scott’s was as frazzled and restless as Logan’s was fiercely lusty. Something was clearly out of kilter here, but he would not invade the minds of his friends and colleagues to find out what. No doubt all would be revealed sooner or later. “Well,” he commented, trying to level out the energies in the room, “we have to start trusting somewhere, or nothing will ever be accomplished. We’re all flying blind here.”

Logan shot Scott a sly grin, as the young man looked away. Only they knew the significance of that phrase.

“Now,” the older man at the head of the table changed the subject, “next on the agenda – the upcoming fall semester. Jean, how are the curriculum revisions coming?”

Abruptly she blinked and looked away from Scott. “It, umm, will be done in time,” she blurted, still distracted.

Carefully watching her friend, Storm picked up the slack. “Since many of students here are now are old enough to enter upper division, we are planning two sets of each of the upper division classes.   One set will be taught by the most-advanced students, so that we’ll have enough teachers to go around.”

“Also,” Jean spoke up, making herself respond, although somewhat stiffly, “We’re going to offer a seminar in defensive techniques when you find your gifts negated – how to deal with unexpected possibly dangerous situations.”

“A vital skill indeed,” Xavier agreed. “Very good. At any rate, next month, let us meet again and review all the class outlines.”

He turned to Scott. “And the final matter under discussion is the Blackbird. Now that summer is finally thawing out the crash area, Peter will be going up there to retrieve any remaining pieces of the jet. We can’t leave anything that Magneto or any of our opponents might find.”

“Do we have any idea what brought us down, Professor?” Scott asked, desperately trying to ignore the grin on Logan’s face, and his own burgeoning erection. “At the time, there was some concern about trouble with Lionheart?”

“Kelsey Leigh Kirkland.” Xavier nodded. “Also known as Lionheart. She is an individual of considerable power, who has had a personal disagreement with Captain Britain.”

“Oh, right,” Logan growled. “We got downed by one of the Cap’s exes. Great.”

“It’s not that simple, Logan,” the professor explained. “Kirkland’s grievance was legitimate – at least in her own mind. However, it was assumed that the disagreement with Brian had been long settled. As to what triggered her rage on this occasion, well, we’re still uncertain.”

“Flying blind,” Scott echoed to himself ruefully. It was taking all his self-control to focus on the professor’s words, and not the throbbing bulge in his pants.

“So the bitch flips, and tears us a new one,” Logan muttered, eyebrow cocked. “Why us? Wouldn’t she just go after the Cap?”

“Pure coincidence, I’m afraid.” The professor shrugged. “The Blackbird just happened to cross her path on your way to meet up with Excalibur.”

Logan frowned, irritated at the idea of ending up collateral damage in a fight not their own.

But Scott leaned in, curious. “She’s powerful enough to do that?”

“On her own – no. But the weapon she wields is. However, from what I understand from Captain Britain, she has now been relieved of the Sword of Might.”

“Was anyone else hurt?” Scott inquired, ever the leader. The gentle kindness of his question brought a smile to Logan’s lips.

“Fortunately, no. Her attack on the Blackbird depleted her strength greatly, and Excalibur was able to subdue her without further injury. You two were the only ones harmed.” Xavier wheeled himself away from the table, signalling an end to the meeting, then leaned back for a last word. “Captain Britain has asked that you both contact him when you feel sufficiently recovered. He said he’d like to apologize in person. He’s also offered to help with the salvage mission, as he feels partly to blame.”

“Always happy to be someone else’s cannon fodder,” Logan snorted.

“Maybe the two of you would like to come with me?” Colossus suggested. “You would have a better idea of your crash path than I would, and where the debris might be scattered. And also you could meet with Braddock as well.” Actually, probably he had jumped to the conclusion – as had everyone else in the room, no doubt – that the two men had been vying over Jean again, and thought to smooth the waters by splitting them away from the woman for the time being.

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Xavier agreed, wheeling out of room, and Logan wondered if he might not have a more accurate comprehension of the situation.

“It all seems so… pointless,” Scott murmured, rising from his seat. “We were downed for nothing.”

Hank patted Scott on the back as he too headed for the door. “I doubt that Kitty and Kurt feel that way,” he assured. “If Lionheart could rip out the side of the Blackbird, imagine what she could have done to them at full power!”

Scott smiled lightly at the large furry man, and followed him out. He deliberately didn’t wait for either Logan or Jean.

But then Jean pushed past him in the hall, her anger crackling around her like a halo. “So that’s what he’s got that I don’t – claws.” Abruptly she rounded on him; and her telekinesis – whether deliberately or inadvertently – slammed him hard against the oak-paneled wall. “I never knew you had such a kink for that sort of thing. Maybe I should have been rougher with you, kept you tied to the bed and scratched up. Would that have made you stay?” Her words dripped with bitterness and fury.

“Jean… It’s not like that…”

“Go back to your rutting grizzly, since you obviously like him so much,” she interrupted sharply. And then she was gone, red hair flying as she charged down the corridor.

And Scott could only watch after her, mouth working, but having no answer.

“Well, she’s got her panties in a twist,” Logan muttered in amusement, coming up from behind, probably loud enough for Jean to overhear. “Rough stuff, eh? Tied to the bed? I’m surprised, Summers – I would have pegged the two of you for nothing kinkier that nice proper vanilla sex.”

Scott felt the snap of Jean’s telekinesis rattle a curio-table. “Shut up, Logan,” he tossed back in irritation and walked away.

But Logan hurried behind him. “So, you wanna help Petey load up for the trip?” Voice dropped low so that only Scott could hear: “Or jump back into bed for a one-on with your ‘rutting grizzly’?”

“Neither,” Scott retorted, shoving past Logan abruptly. “What I need right now is a work-out in the Danger Room. Alone.” And he headed off, leaving Logan smirking slightly in his wake.

Oh yes, no doubt about it – Cyke was his.

* * * * *  
 _to be continued_ …


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggestively Scott’s fingertips caressed the back of the strong hand, lingering over the knuckles. And drawing his lover’s hand up to his lips, gently Scott kissed each finger. Then glancing up to Logan’s face to ascertain his effect, the younger man licked sensually between the knuckles, and the hard ridges forming there…  
> A sharp hiss gasped from Wolverine’s lips; his grip tightened. “Dammit, Summers! Keep it up, and I’ll go off before I even get it up ya!”

“Don’t do that again, Logan.”

With a teasing little grin, Logan shut the bedroom door behind them, flipped on the light-switch. “What’s the matter, Slim? Don’t like a little teasing?”

“What I don’t like is being manipulated. I’m tired of taking it from Jean, and I sure in hell don’t need it from you.”

“What are you taking from Jean?”

Summers frowned, and unbuttoned his shirt. “Never mind. It’s just that it’s hard enough dealing with Jean’s emotional scenes, without you acting like a ten-year-old as well.”

Logan affected a look of taken aback. “A ten-year-old? And Jean just called me a ‘rutting grizzly’.”

That drew a tiny smile from the other man, as he tossed the shirt onto a nearby chair, and exchanged his trousers for pajama bottoms. “She also called you a ‘hairy old bull-moose in heat’.”

“Oh? Well, I guess she’s just calling it like she sees it. I am hairy, and I’m definitely older’n you… and I’m as Canadian as any bull-moose.” A quick nuzzle to the side of Summers’ neck. “And I’m extremely in heat. So, yeah, I’d have to agree with her.”

Lying back on the bed, Scott raised his arms over his head, breathed a sigh. “I guess I’m just irritated right now – by your casualness and game-playing, and by Jean’s pettiness… this afternoon I was caught between job responsibilities, my concern for Jean’s feelings, and that massive hard-on you gave me.”

Logan sat on the edge of the bed, reached to explore a slender chest, caress down lean flanks. “Hey, you know I would have been more than willing to help you take care of all of that…” – a tiny grin, and fingers tugging at the drawstring of Summers’ pj’s – “… well, at least the massive hard-on.”

Light playful touch stroked a muscular forearm, covered the hand beginning to stroke his groin. “I’m sure you would have.”

“Look, okay, if it bothers you, I promise not to tease you in front of everyone anymore.”

That drew a soft snort. “Yeah, like I believe that…!” Then more suggestively the fingertips caressed the back of the strong hand, lingering over the knuckles. And drawing his lover’s hand up to his lips, gently Scott kissed each finger. Then glancing up to Logan’s face to ascertain his effect, the younger man licked sensually between the knuckles.

A sharp hiss gasped from Wolverine’s lips; his grip tightened. “Dammit, Summers!”

The younger man smiled.

Another provocative lick, tongue probing wetly between each joint, and an involuntary shiver stiffened Logan’s whole body. “…damn, kid, you don’t know what you’re doing to me…!”

“Oh…?” Carefully Scott took the trouble to lick up and down one finger, then another, then back to kissing the flesh between. “I think I know exactly what I’m doing to you…” Another finger. Sucked ever so lightly on the fingertip, then a wet lick again.

A helpless grunt; and of their own accord Logan’s hips thrust up a little, loins desperate to thrust into a welcome body. “Summers!”

Turning the hand over, Scott kissed, then licked traces over the palm, then once again shifted to the real focus of his attention. Logan’s breath caught tightly. On the back, ridges began to form between the metacarpals; erotically Summers licked along each one, then kissed between each knuckle once again.

“Summers!” the older man blurted again, jerking his hand out of the tantalizing grip, then rolled partway on top of his lover. “Keep it up, and I’ll go off before I even get it up ya.”

That erotic tongue licked full sensual lips. “Keeping it ‘up’ is exactly what I intend to do.”

Humor sparked in hazel eyes. “I’m sure it is, kid.”

Then as he gazed down at the other man’s face, a pensive look shifted Logan’s expression. Tenderly he rubbed a thumb over Scott’s left eyebrow, just above the edge of the glasses, staring wistfully through the ruby lenses.

“What?” Scott queried curiously.

Logan frowned. “I wanna see your eyes.”

A little grin. “Yeah, well, it would be the _last_ thing you ever saw.”

“I know.” Tiny kiss to smooth-shaven cheek. “What color are they?”

“They’re blue, kind of light-blue, I guess. At least they were... before…”

“Mm.” Carefully Logan reached for the side-frames, started to remove them.

Scott closed his eyes. “Logan…”

Laying the glasses aside on the pillow, Logan gazed at the younger man’s closed eyelids, at the suffused pink gleam glowing through the thin flesh, and even with that, at this close distance, he could feel a warm pulsating vibration radiating onto his face, tingling.

“Logan…” Scott breathed nervously. “Don’t…”

“It’s all right.” Carefully Logan leaned closer, then taking either side of Scott’s head, pressed his lips to Scott’s right eyelid, stayed that way for a lingering moment, taking in the feel of the firm eyeball beneath the thin skin, and the burning, tingling sensation on his lips.

“Logan… please…” Scott urged, voice slightly quivering. “If I accidentally blinked, at this distance, I’d vaporize your head – and even you probably couldn’t recover from that.”

Logan grinned a little. “Probably not,” he agreed.

“So, please,” Scott urged. “Give me back the glasses. I don’t like being face to face with someone without my glasses.”

Logan smiled. “You didn’t have your glasses in the cave.”

“Yeah, but we weren’t face to face. And I did lose control, and nearly brought the cave down on us. Not to mention what I did to you in the plane…”

“I keep tellin’ ya, kid, what happened on the plane doesn’t matter any more.” Kiss on the forehead, right between knitted brows. “Anyway, what about you and Jean? In all your, uh… bed-time together… you must’ve had your glasses off…”

“No!” Scott retorted, more sharply than he intended, the wound still too raw. “No,” he quieted back down. “No, I, uh, never took them off in… umm… in bed with her… I couldn’t risk it… I couldn’t trust myself…”

Quietly Logan assured, “Well, then, don’t you think it’s time now for a little change? You’re gonna learn to trust yourself. I trust you. You’re not gonna blink.” And gently kissed the left eye.

“God, Logan…” Scott breathed. “I’m…” his voice trembled, “I’m not sure I can do this.”

 “Well, I am.” Logan smirked, silencing him with a kiss, pressing his tingling lips to Scott’s and sharing the warmth. “Just let yourself enjoy this.”

 Slowly he worked his way down Scott’s narrow chest, feeling more than hearing the younger man moan under his touch. “Trust me, Slim,” Logan whispered, his breath stirring the soft curls at Scott’s crotch. “You may be flying blind, but I ain’t gunna let you crash.”

* * * * * **FINIS** * * * * *


End file.
